Awakening
by Cezille07
Summary: Our four young heroes must embark on a series of tasks that will unify their shattered town and bring life, hope, and peace... But a more deadly opponent than petty war awaits them. They must find a way to get through their strange quests before this malevolent evil overcomes them and claims the world for his sinister plans! Disclaimer, Features, and Warnings inside!
1. Awakening

**Summary:** Our four young heroes must embark on a series of tasks that will unify their shattered town and bring life, hope, and peace... But a more deadly opponent than petty war awaits them. Kyle, Stan, Cartman, and Kenny must find a way to get through their strange quests before this malevolent evil overcomes them and claims the world for his sinister plans!

 **Genres:** A mix of fantasy/sci-fi, adventure, friendship, and romance.

 **Warnings:** Language, of course. Boatloads of cursing ahead.

 **Features:** Kyman/Stendy/Kenny being a perv. Also features wild adventures, a mysterious enemy, lots of petty fights between Kahl and Cartman, and an OC which is NOT going to be in a pairing with the main guys.

 **Setting:** The boys are seventeen. :)

 **Disclaimer:** This piece of fiction is based on SOUTH PARK, which is owned and copyrighted by Comedy Central/Matt Stone and Trey Parker.

Also, I borrowed this concept of Awakening the body's sensory perceptions from the series "The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel" by Michael Scott. It's an fantastic six-novel book about magic, friendship, and adventure that you might enjoy (more than this) if you like this fic. Do check it out!

Without further ado, prepare yourself for a whimsical, multi-chapter adventure! Here is "Awakening".

* * *

 **Awakening** ** _  
_** _Cezille07_

Chapter 1 - Awakening

 _Shadows dance in my eyes_

Kyle blinked into consciousness, feeling a certain weight on his chest manifest. It wasn't heavy, but it was uncomfortable in a cold, ghostly manner. He opened his eyes to behold a darkness that was beyond this world. He suppressed a girlish scream as the realization hit him: he wasn't in South Park, hell, he wasn't even on Earth...

 _And blood tickles my skin;_

Cartman was used to dreaming of violence, and in such dreams he was often involved as a murderer, sometimes the victim. But the feeling of blood was new. The warm liquid trickling down his chest and his sides couldn't have been blood, and this confusion erased the last tendrils of sleep clinging to him. He bolted upright and found himself in the middle of a fountain of brilliant crimson.

 _Gray lilies buzz with lies—_

With a drunken hum, Stan stretched from his rather tight fetal curl. But jagged rocks scratched his arms and back, and a sharp pain coursed through his body in waves. He stood up to welcome horrid reality, for he was not a man who fooled himself with fancies that reality was anything but that. He had to slap himself several times before he was convinced that he was neither dreaming nor tripping.

 _I die and live again._

The feeling was familiar, welcome. It was the feeling of air rushing through lungs that have forgotten how to breathe, the feeling of blood creeping back through dried capillaries. Despite the pain of bodily expiration, the return to life was always disorienting, painful in its own way—and yet Kenny could never find it in himself to dislike the miracle of waking up once more. Bright daylight was his usual signal to rejoice, but today was definitely strange, for darkness still clouded him. This couldn't be hell...but it sure felt like it, though.

And the worst part was that he saw his three best friends in a circle of confusion around him, staring disbelievingly at the same strange blackness that pressed upon them eerily.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Cartman whispered, more to himself, as he took in his surroundings.

They appeared to be in a damp cavern; many tunnels on the walls led to mysterious black infinities, and the floors were littered with shattered remains of obscurely alien creatures.

Stan sat up rigidly, looking around like a threatened kitten. "A-am I dead?"

Kenny heaved a heavy sigh. At least they looked to be okay. "I don't think so. Is anyone hurt?"

"My head," groaned Stan.

"I can't...I can't move," piped Kyle. "I'm..."

Kenny rose to his feet with urgency, while Cartman, who appeared to have been dumped next to Kyle unceremoniously from somewhere above, moved to inspect the redhead.

"Cold?" Cartman frowned. The Jew was shaking like a wet puppy, and clammy sweat covered his pale skin. He beckoned to Stan, who was still processing his terror. Stan crept toward Kyle on all fours, and on beholding the state of his best friend, he regained his senses at last.

"Kyle, what's wrong? What are you feeling?" Stan fired all these questions while palming Kyle's forehead. "Can you move? What can I do to help?"

A sudden gust of wind knocked off Kenny's hood. They all looked at their unmasked friend who was blushing at his nakedness, but before laughter could ensue, an ethereal, voice spoke to them.

"Young heroes, thank you for answering my summons!" It was a feminine voice, one that reminded them of a sweet grandmother who had too much time and too many ingredients for just one pie. "My name is Luria, and I am the spirit guardian of South Park. You boys have been chosen for a task that will change the face of your planet should you succeed...otherwise, the world will be doomed forever."

"Hold up, hold! Wait, lady," interrupted Cartman. He faced the direction where the ghostly voice seemed to have come from, shielding his three wimpy friends with his large frame. "What makes you think we 'answered' your summons? Who the fuck are you and why are we all in this creepy dump that has ZERO FOOD?"

Stan hung his head in shame. Kenny suppressed a laugh by tightening his hood on.

For a while, there was no response from their otherworldly being. Without warning, the ground began to shake, and then came flash of light like a hundred stars came into existence in the room. The intense light faded slowly, and as it receded they became aware of the faint scent of grassy fields in a summer afternoon. Slowly, they opened their eyes to behold the scenery morphing before them. The mineral deposits, the sharp edges, the black tunnels were gone; rolling hills expanded for miles beyond their horizon. In the middle of this magical, verdant field, a spectral dame enrobed in diamonds dust stood tapping one impatient foot, her hands on her waists.

"Are you freaking happy now? Fuck, all humans are the same, whiny, self-centered jerkwads," she said angrily.

Kenny's heart stopped once he saw her. She had translucent skin like water, and her eyes were like miniature suns: a blazing gold, to match floating strands of pale yellow hair. Her similarly floating gown of sandy jewels hid all of her arms and legs, but showed a tiny fraction of her chest.

"Whoa" was all he could say.

Stan raised his hands beseechingly, "Okay, Luria. We appreciate the nice view, but what does any of this have to do with us? Like my friend said, there was no...summons. (Is that a singular word? Kenny? Cartman? No clue? Huh.) And, and my best friend, something's wrong with him. Please do something."

Luria took one glance at Kyle's crumpled, wheezing form. "Oh, that...shouldn't have happened. Unless he's sick in person, it must be our equipment; there are some maintenance issues in the Spiritual Transport department so...um, sorry. He's gonna be like that for a little while. But back to the point!"

"Wait, that's not fair," Kenny remarked, "You need something from us, but our group is a package deal. (Except maybe the fat one. You can leave him out.) No Kyle, no deal."

"You haven't even heard the deal," retorted Luria. "Seriously, you have no reverence for an immortal spirit. I should just retire and let the next guy deal with this. I could care a lot less, y'know! You live there, and you don't care about your shitty town's well-being. Well EXCUSE ME! I could go have some other town, heck, some other dimension, to watch over instead of your lame, hippie center for fucking idiots!"

"Wait, no, we're sorry." Kenny looked at the other three for approval, and added, "Fine, we'll do what you want."

Luria eyed them for a few seconds, and then sighed in relief. "Well FINALLY. Okay, let's start off with a little incentive."

"YES!" cried Cartman.

Kyle weakly poked his fat belly in response, saying, "It's probably not edible. Or physical. Shut up."

"Stupid Jew, it'll probably be a million dollars!"

Luria sighed again. "When you two kids are done bickering, I'd like to finish this meeting. The longer you stay here, the harder it will be for your bodies to merge with your souls."

Kenny kicked Cartman's shin. "Good going! Let her finish!"

"Why didn't you kick Kyle too? He started it!" Cartman replied, rubbing his sore leg.

Kyle replied pointedly, "I didn't start shit, you fatass! And I'm sick!"

"Boohoo!" Cartman stuck out his tongue and wiped his eyes mockingly, "Poor widdle Kyle cold and helpless like a babyyyy! Meeeem! Meeeeeeeem! I want some titty milk!"

"GUYS!" Stan yelled exasperatedly. "I swear, I don't even know how you two still hang out when you never get along!"

"Sometime in this decade, gentlemen," Luria was tapping her foot again. "Are you _really_ the Chosen ones?"

"I guess not," Kenny answered, conspicuously ogling her spiritual breasts. "But I still wanna help!"

"Well gather round and fucking shut those mouths before I seal them for you permanently!" roared Luria. The boys looked among themselves and lined up before the spirit (Kyle with the help of Stan). "Good. Now for the plan."

 **~o0O0o~**

Elsewhere in the spiritual realm, a dark smoky form hummed along as he traced his faux-finger on a map of the Solar System. The planets formed a crooked line, with the Sun at one end and poor, neglected Pluto at the other end, chasing each other in a gravitational race around the cosmos.

"Right there," he pointed at the blue-green ball of rock. "Stupid Earth."

Beneath this map lay a hundred others: enormous blueprints for the inter-dimensional gateway system that was in the works. Only two decades ago, this spirit himself spearheaded the initiative to simplify the pathways between the normal reality, the spirit realm, the alien dimensions that have always avoided human contact, and several others.

He had bulldozed several of the Sun's neighbors to clear a path for the highways and tollgates. He had worked very hard for this project, so hard in fact that he felt that Destiny itself were trying its damnedest to stop him from completing his life's goal. This shouldn't have been _this_ difficult. He had been an engineer at the Dimensional Embassy for more centuries that he could count. So why the hell wasn't this stupid planet cooperating with his will?!

"Deadline's too close to pick another spot for Gate Number 5E913X-S," he sighed. He reclined on his office chair and whirled around in front of his desk, hoping his assistant wouldn't give him hell this time. "Maybe I just have to check out the site for interference?"

 **~o0O0o~**

Luria stood behind her four Chosen Ones, touching each one on the back of the head gently with an index finger. She whispered ancient words that their tongues and ears may never decipher, but it was fine. It would be a tiny gift, in exchange for the sacrifice that she was about to make them do.

"Close your eyes, children, and hold your breath," she instructed plainly in English now.

They did as they were told, and they were right to be anxious about the procedure. They were promised some sort of aid for their heroic task, but none of them expected the sudden impact of their senses going on overdrive.

Kenny had remained adamant about keeping his eyes open. He felt it first, and he remembered instantly that light was the fastest thing there ever was. But what he perceived was more than just "light", it looked more like an infinite number of white waves branching from all directions. The waves hurt his eyes, hurt his skin. He could see the vessels just beneath his skin pulsating very quickly, his every pore producing sweat that contained a great number of microscopic lifeforms, the lint and dirt on his old parka... In the end he ceded to Luria's initial warning to close his eyes, unable to take any more.

Stan's first reaction was to puke his guts out, or whatever the spiritual counterpart of that was. He vomited something, and his skin prickled. Everything from the air, the smell of the false fields, the warm earth, the distant sun, to his friends' individual scents, these all seemed to have magnified a hundredfold and suddenly invaded his nostrils. He tried to cover his face with his hands, his jacket, his cap, but the sensations didn't cease to overload his brain, and he soon fell unconscious.

Kyle heard a series of booming sounds in a terrifying crescendo. The faint sounds of ruffling hair and clothes in the wind, four out-of-sync heartbeats that he hoped was their own, Luria's worried breathing (he was sure it was worry somehow)-worst of all was Cartman's screaming right next to him. Kyle did his best not to let the black spots in his vision get the better of him, and focused instead on why Cartman was yelling his lungs out:

Because of agony. He gripped his neck as though he were choking, but besides his eyes shut tight and his grinding teeth there was no mark of damage on his plump body. Kyle could hear, but he didn't understand, that Cartman was undergoing tortures of the oral kind. His taste buds had staged a coup for their misuse all his life, and now he was receiving a "taste" of his own bad eating habits. So much salt and sugar; so much sweat, tears, mud and grease. All these seemed to convert into helpless tears and shame until he passed out.

Luria stood cross-armed, shaking her head. She debated whether to take back her gift of heightened perceptions, but the damage was done. They now knew what it was to be pure, to experience the fullness of sight, sound, taste, and smell. Their bodies were now ready to embark on this quest she had assigned them, but the question was...would they even survive the first ten minutes of this overload?

 **~o0O0o~**

 _Shadows dance in my eyes_

 _And blood tickles my skin;_

 _Gray lilies buzz with lies_ —

 _I die and live again._

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review!

Next Chapter: The boys embark on their individual quests!


	2. Zero

**Awakening**  
 _Cezille07_

Chapter 2 - Zero

They each awoke in their own beds as though it were all a dream.

Stan wished it were, because he knew he would probably die if he ever experienced a nasal assault like that ever again. Now in addition to seeing bleakness wherever he turned, his nose would be another constant painful reminder that life was nothing but shit. He pulled together the pieces of the dream he could.

A hot-tempered spirit, Luria, had told them of a grim future that awaited the world. It was far beyond Jesus and Satan, far beyond their own reality; she spoke of a place that was intermediate to every reality that had ever existed. Even Imaginationland sat among this array of dimensional facets. Luria, as the spirit of South Park, revealed that external evils that had been sown in the town, and that plans had been set in motion to destroy their precious Earth to make way for an inter-dimensional highway of sorts.

 _"At least, that's what Universe News tells me."_ Luria had excused her lack of information so casually, even after disclosing inconceivable particulars about their co-existence with aliens more advanced than the unlucky few they've met.

Before Stan could further ponder on the credibility of his half-awake mind, his phone beeped from his bedside stand. Kyle had messaged him:

"Guys, meet up at Cartman's house ASAP."

 _Shit. It's real._

While Kyle was ordinarily the earlybird among them, to initiate skipping class on a Thursday was bizarre.

Kenny made a group-response to the message: "Did you have that crazy dream too?!"

Stan felt his temples pulsing angrily while he processed this. Not only did this thing occur to them simultaneously, but it also boasted a pressing urgency if Luria and everything she said was actually true.

Ten minutes later, he, Kyle, and Kenny were huddled up close in front of and pounding mercilessly against Cartman's green front door.

"Wake up fatass!" bellowed Kenny, not half-caring whether any of the neighbors got angry (which they did, as several surly men and women peeked at them from the dark windows of their closed rooms). "Cartman! Open the goddamned door!"

He and Kyle laughed. Stan shook his head hopelessly.

Heavy footsteps approached the door from the other side, and they jointly sighed in relief as the door swung open. Kyle's jaw dropped open when he beheld Cartman's disheveled appearance.

"Shit, guys. This is fucked up," was Eric's first words. "I've been up all morning, but I can't eat anything. Everything is too much."

 _No way!_ That meant Stan wasn't alone, and they were all doomed to deal with the impending shitstorm that was going to happen...

"You said that right," Kenny added. "You should see what I'm seeing. It's like I'm super high. Like waaaay high up there. It's crazy, so much detail. I don't mind though. I've seen through enough blazers and tank tops to make up for it."

Stan wished he could disappear into the ground. "You guys make me so embarrased. Can we come in, Cartman?"

Eric stepped aside to make room for them, and they filed inside. They picked their usual places on the living room couch, and Kyle brought out a bunch of printed papers for everyone to read.

"I researched on this Luria spirit as soon as I woke up," began Kyle listlessly, "and there's little to no mention of her on any archives and forums. She's not Greek or Norse, shares no relation with any famous evil or benign spirits ever documented. She's not supposed to exist, but somehow, she left her mark on all of us."

They looked at each other, and each simultaneously reached for the back of their heads where a burn mark was hidden by hair, but their fingers could trace the rough letter L on their scalps.

Stan felt the block in his throat settle itself there. _This is all happening now._

"And we have these...crazy strong senses. Why the hell would that make us more able to perform her tasks?" Stan asked. Kyle smiled at him comfortingly.

"We just have to do it and see, I guess," offered Cartman. "That Luria chick may not exist, but she feels real though. It's like she's punishing us or something."

"Or helping! We don't know," Kenny interjected crossly.

Cartman instantly responded, "Just because you enjoyed seeing her see-through spirit boobs doesn't mean she's a good guy. None of what she said may be true. What kind of inter-dimensional highway would have to pass through our very own, boring dimension—not to mention our very ordinary solar system? What's up with that? Even if we're the only planet hosting life forms, none of the species are intelligent enough to help themselves or prevent their own destruction."

"...Right," Kyle added after while. Kenny nodded blankly at the amount of scientific insight Cartman just dispensed.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Eric finally asked when no one replied.

Stan covered his nose. "Something stinks, Cartman."

"Fuck you, Marsh! My opinion is as valid as yours!"

"No, no...I mean," Stan gasped for air, and he instantly regretted it. "Smells like a dying rat or something. Fuck, I can't breathe."

Kenny observed Stan's greenish face, and looked around. He turned to Eric. "Is your mom cooking something processed?"

"MOM!" called Cartman.

Liane appeared on the kitchen doorway, her usual garb covered with a flowery pink apron. "Yes Poopsikins? Oh your friends are here!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Is anyone hungry for some sausages? I can make more if you want."

"Blergh!" Stan turned from sickly green to shameful white in a second. A small puddle of vomit stained the couch and carpet. "S-sorry! I'm gonna clean that up, honest."

"Come on, Stan, let's get you home," Kyle suggested.

Stan removed his jacket and tied the sleeves around his face like a mask. "Lemme just...ugh, sort this out. Besides, my mom's probably cooking something too. I don't wanna sample that either."

Cartman crossed his arms and waited for Stan to finish wiping away the mess.

"Leave him alone, Cartman," Kyle warned, his eyes a dangerous warning. "Let's talk elsewhere."

"Can't I stay and eat?" pleaded Kenny. "Aww never mind guys, Kyle's a Jew and fatass can't do fatass-like shit until we save the world." He looked woefully from Kyle to Eric in hopes of convincing them to wait for Liane to finish making breakfast, but Kyle was already halfway through the living room dragging Eric's favorite red coat while Cartman whined nonstop about "this is my fucking house, I do what I want, stupid Jew!"

 **~o0O0o~**

Their contract to Luria flashed in their minds vividly as they touched the symbol branded at the backs of their heads. Golden writing made of light listed their designated quests that would prevent South Park's destruction:

For Kyle, he was to appeal to the company Jensen Enterprise to pull out all their merchandise that were produced using nasty amounts of atmosphere-consuming CFC's. He had the advantage of superhuman hearing, and their corporate secrets were at his disposal, to be used as either arguments or blackmail.

Kyle could easily imagine Cartman pulling this off, but with the company's extensive resources and influence, there was a lot he feared going wrong if the directors find out about their unique method of espionage. They discreetly owned many of the town's everyday products, ranging from hair care to furniture. They were filthy rich, and Kyle knew that Stan's inner Greenpeace-man was screaming to _please_ help shut this evil megacorp down. It wasn't beyond this company to squish competition and naysayers. Kyle knew this thanks to online news sources dating back to his freshman days in high school.

So he was left on his own, weighing his conscience against the easy way out.

Google was certainly not lending him a hand. Their HR was a man in his forties who had little patience for teenagers and environmentalists. Kyle groaned. So a phone call wouldn't cut it, he had already told himself that. He had to meet them personally. And his gift of hearing and their traumatic bodily awakening seemed to be useless after all.

 **~o0O0o~**

Kenny had little luck with his own venture. He stood in front of the decrepit library, counting the number of giant rats that scurried around the piles of forgotten old volumes whose pages were yellower than a liver patient's skin. The rats owned the place, if their territorial behavior about the books was any sign. Kenny had taken one step toward a fallen book to pick it up when a rat with magnificent white fur snapped at his fingers.

"Ow! Geez, I'm not even dead yet," he muttered in aggravation.

He cast the poor place a wistful look. He had been here with the guys on several occasions, and then one day it just shut down. It was deserted, as though in a hurry. Cups of coffee half-finished sat on the tables; the shelves remained partially organized, with trolleys parked in the middle of the Suspense and Thriller sections; newspapers thumbed open to page three lay open on the head librarian's office; and several cellphones lay abandoned on the receptionist's desk.

Some of that evidence still remained here today, and Kenny looked through them all as he wondered what to tell the mayor to fund the reopening of this creepy place. But the mayor herself had told the media and the people to leave the place alone, due to its being haunted. Father Maxi tried to get an exorcism approved by the Vatican, but it was denied because of the lack of a malevolent presence. However, the place still felt inhabited. Maybe it was the rats.

Come sundown, Kenny decided there was nothing in his power that could change the state of the library, and he left empty-handed.

 **~o0O0o~**

Cartman was dressed to the nines when he left his house that afternoon, and he was proud of himself whenever his looks surpassed his weight. Stupid Kyle never cutting him slack... Cartman knew how to dress, and he knew how to manage his weight (he just didn't want to), and most of all, he knew what to do to finish his divine quest.

What he didn't know was how to perform on an empty stomach.

Fuck... Exercising was bad enough, but to completely go on fasting—he knew that he wouldn't survive two days with the setup. Which was what drove him to complete Luria's ridiculous task for him—he had to stop the faction wars that ran rampant throughout the city—as rapidly as possible.

One side apparently couldn't stand the idea of blinking Christmas lights, either because they were horribly epileptic or they had no festive spirit. The other side was all for the blinking and even pushed for the type with the monotone tunes. Like children. Heh. Cartman hated both sides for letting a stupid divide in opinion tear the poorer side of town with propaganda and violence. The blinking party even had papers to support their cause of monopolizing the brand of lights sold to the masses and to the malls. All of it was bullshit.

But he had a plan.

He entered a large office at the penthouse floor of the enterprise's headquarters, which supported the Blinker's side and boasted a magnificent view of the snow-topped mountains and forests of Colorado. He couldn't contain his surprise when he saw Kyle standing by the waiting area.

"Kahl, is your shit with the Jensen Enterprise company too?" he greeted casually.

Kyle grinned wearily. His nerves were either getting the better of him, or Cartman's were, because any time Eric wasn't hostile to him meant trouble or something was bothering him. "Hey Cartman. Give me a sec, I'm listening to Mr. Jensen's phone calls."

Eric nodded in understanding. Kyle was already putting his new skills to good use, but he was still suffering from hunger and the pain of tasting the aerosol in the air conditioning. He opted to plop himself on the nearest available chair and watch as Kyle rigidly tried to place himself near the slits between the president's door and the walls for something to use against him. Of course, the Jew's body language betrayed his lack of confidence and the fact that he'd really rather not do this, but they both knew that their only chance to sway the Jensen guy to their side was Kyle's ability.

At length, Kyle tensed up even further, and he rushed to Cartman's side, trying to look as calm and casual as possible. He gulped. "He's ready for us. The secretary should be coming for me soon."

Indeed, a twenty-something lady whose striking gray contact lenses intimidated even Cartman approached Kyle briskly and indicated that the president was finished with his appointment and will be speaking to him now.

Kyle loosened his collar and followed her to Mr. Jensen's office.

Cartman had only to wait ten minutes to find out Kyle's advocacy, whatever it was (he didn't listen when the others explained their tasks) was quickly rejected. The sharp secretary was striding toward him with intent of letting him in, but Cartman had a sense that his own agenda would progress little in Mr. Jensen's audience.

"Let's go, Kahl," he said as he stood. He ignored the lady's invitations to see the president, more intent on getting some color back into Kyle's face.

 **~o0O0o~**

The Testaburger residence was usually alive with intelligent chatter, and Wendy's sweet face would grace the windows as she flitted about the house busily. She easily took over her mother's place as woman of the house after Daisy contracted some obscure disease Stan couldn't remember.

All he knew was that she was the light of that household and a shining beacon of his life, and that she was completely, hopelessly out of his league now.

"You don't love me, Stan," she used to say, "You can't see beyond your physical infatuation with me! You're afraid of meeting the real me. You want a trophy, not a lover. I can't be with someone who doesn't respect my soul."

In hindsight, she was probably on her period or something, and if Kenny's advice was any good, she probably was just playing hard to get, to show other boys and girls she had some depth, that she was not to be messed with. But since that fight, Stan couldn't approach her and the more he thought about it, the more he started to believe her words. Maybe every time he puked in her presence was a sign that her intimacy was so daunting to him, even if he deified her every thought and deed... He was afraid of her, thought of her as perfect, because maybe she was. She probably was. It was too late to find out now, though.

With a heart as heavy as lead, he trudged toward her front door and prepared the five, six sentences he needed to get out of the way. But his hands just couldn't reach the wood to knock. He could smell her cooking, her perfume, her hair. He could smell the citrus hand soap on their sink, the chopped bits of spices on the counter. He could almost visualize the inside of her smoothly-running household, and there he was just standing like a stalker. Which he was, and he couldn't deny it. Fuck.

"I can do this. I've talked to girls before, I've talked to _her_ before..." he told himself.

And she simply passed by the windows, not noticing he was ever there. The lights went dark. The day was out. And silent Stan felt a turbid amalgam of self-hatred and guilt that left itself crying on her doorstep while he walked away to do the same.

 **~o0O0o~**

"I wonder how Stan's doing," Kyle mumbled.

Eric pushed a cup of water across the kitchen table toward him.

"I mean," Kyle went on, "I have to talk to this big shot, and you need to sort out the stupidest, most embarrassing civil war to ever break out on this state. That's pretty tough, but, we can do that shit, right?"

Cartman eyed Kyle, who finally took the hint and gulped down the whole glass in one swig. Satisfied, Eric relaxed and returned to his slice of toast. He spoke between bites, "Somehow. But that Luria should've assigned your stuff to me, because I can talk big, and you're like, I dunno, a hippie like your faggy best friend."

"This isn't funny, Cartman," snapped Kyle, his brows two unified lines of red.

"Now there's the Kahl I was looking for," chuckled Cartman. "As I was saying, maybe it'd be easier for us to switch tasks. You're big on peace, and I can deal with high-and-mighty assholes."

"Like yourself."

"Of course."

"But Stan, though..."

"Fucking Stan."

"No, Cartman, Stan just can't...cure a terminal disease."

Kyle looked intently at Cartman, and then shifted his pleading gaze at his now empty glass of water. He heaved the millionth helpless sigh for that eventful day.

Cartman shifted uncomfortably. There was no response to that. He had no idea what there was to gain with Wendy's mom, who owned what seemed to keep the most boring job in the world: city planner. Their town was going to shit, and she was part of it. "This whole mess is probably her fault."

"What do you mean?" Kyle sadly studied the droplets that lazily dripped down the edge of his glass. Liane passed through and kissed both boys goodnight before she retreated to her room to go read a book.

"I mean, maybe our assignments are all interconnected? I don't know how," he answered the question forming on Kyle's lips, "but maybe she has something to do with it. Something about the city. And maybe that's why the Chosen ones are us, from this boring shithole of a town, instead of from a big city like Batman. Maybe, right? I don't know."

"Sup dudes!" Kenny had let himself in and now crashed into the chair next to Kyle. He fist-bumped Cartman too. "Hey man."

"You sound like you had better luck than we did," Kyle offered as a greeting.

"By the sound of it, then we all had the same amount of success," answered Kenny with a smile.

"Zero," Cartman finished.

Kenny stood up again and began rummaging through the cupboards. "Hey, fill me in on your progress. And where's Stan?"

"Can't contact him. His phone is off, and his parents said he was still out. In hindsight, it was bad idea to ask them directly, because now they're worrying, and they know we ditched school. Sharon probably told all our parents too," explained Kyle.

"I told 'im it was a bad idea," Cartman butted in. "But Kyle's really the only one with a bitch mom."

"Knock it off, I wasn't thinking straight," retorted Kyle. "Anyway, I met this guy from Jensen Enterprise. I was three words into my introduction and he was spouting off laws that I was breaking and things about libel and blackmail and shit."

Kenny returned to the kitchen table and scattered his uncovered cookies and candies. "And?"

"I don't know what happened. It messed me up in the head. He was angry, but it was different. There was something off about his voice."

"Creepy," remarked Kenny, popping a cookie into his mouth.

"Kahl was like a geisha when he came out," Cartman elbowed Kenny. "White as a sheet."

"I got the joke, dumbass," Kenny elbowed back. "Go on, Kyle."

"It was just really strange. I just felt like whatever was happening wasn't normal. I just stammered my way out of there; Cartman had to cancel his appointment and bring me back here."

"You had to talk to the same guy?" Kenny turned to Cartman, who was proud to explain his plan of action.

"Not really. It looked like a promising lead. A vulnerable link to the chain of command in the Blinker faction, so to speak. Darius Jensen is the president of the lead supplier of all the fancy lights in production for half the states on the West Coast, among other things, including but not limited to: products that rely on outdated machinery which use harmful CFC's."

"I still find this war utterly ridiculous," Kyle mumbled to himself. "More ridiculous than using old-fashioned hairspray."

"I know, right? So why don't they just stop? They're like idiots!" Kenny added.

"Ahem, guys, that speech was the shit, right?" prodded Cartman. "I'm gonna bring up that well-researched line to Jensen's face when I meet him."

"Get over yourself, fatass," Kyle groaned, "I researched his company and all the things you just talked about!" while Kenny simply laughed.

 **~o0O0o~**

At eleven o'clock in the evening, Wendy would take one sweeping look at her handiwork of keeping the house together, exhale in satisfaction, and retire to her bedroom. Quiet halls and closed windows kept her mind numb amid the pressing stresses of her life right now.

Downstairs, a shadow peered in through the window.

* * *

A/N: I hope my characterization of the boys is somewhat acceptable. I think Stan would be a depressed teenager, but I also think he'll work it out with the help of his friends in the future. Kenny is a natural perv, but he's a cool guy, despite his financial setbacks: he would be everybody's second best friend, even if they'll never know his secrets about dying. Kyle would be the nerdy type, but also an altruistic hero type of guy (to a point where his pride overtakes his actual purpose). And Cartman would be the quick-tempered anti-hero (with a soft spot for Kyle, though he'll never admit it.) HEADCANONS WOOO :3

Thanks for reading! I hope the story is clear so far! Let me know! Comments/reviews/faves are most appreciated. :D

Next Chapter: The search for Stan! Who is the stranger at Wendy's house? Things begin to get heated.


	3. Fear

**Disclaimer:** These views DON'T NECESSARILY represent the writer's own political/religious/other beliefs. Just so we're clear. xD

* * *

 **Awakening**  
 _Cezille07_

Chapter 3 - Fear

Wendy rarely had time to attend to her physical appearance even if Bebe usually argued with her for not doing so. So this time, saturated with a feeling of emptiness, she sat on her bed and opened her purse.

Her cellphone sat among this old junk she rarely used anymore. She plucked the compact and the lipstick from the tangle of female products, ignoring the rest, since it was time for bed anyway. It had been a long and busy day, and the second to last thing she wanted to do was delay her sleep. The last thing she wanted to do was check her phone for messages, since Stan still occasionally sent trivial notes to her. It had been six months. She thought of him often, but it stopped there. She was preoccupied, she had to be—she had listed at least a hundred reasons to keep him at a distance.

Her mom was sick too. While she dabbed her face with powder, she recalled her mother's straight-set, lightly made up face and Wendy secretly adored her fortitude. She used to be a pillar of strength to Wendy. In fact, she wished everyone at school just stopped pressuring her to be pretty just to match her popularity... It was stupid. Bebe being her best friend helped none of her personal struggles.

Just as she smeared her lips with rouge, she heard a soft rapping on the front door.

She crept downstairs in the semi-darkness. She fully expected Stan, for some reason, but was pleasantly surprised to find out which friend of Stan's would show up in his stead.

"Wendy," Cartman said, looking like he was mastering his nerves.

She frowned. "What?" she answered sharply. She could take Stan's seldom appearances, Kyle's calls when Stan was drunk, and Kenny's advances when he thought no one noticed. Cartman usually bothered her to get information about the student council or her advocacies. Kyle always said to ignore him.

"You were Stan's bitch—" he began.

Wendy rolled her eyes and tried to slam the door on her rather unpleasant guest.

"—fucking bitch! You just proved my point, didn't you?" Cartman yelled angrily, wringing the hand he used to jam the door.

"Fine, Cartman, just tell me what you need and get out of here," Wendy spat. She usually ignored Kyle's warnings to "ignore", since Cartman went away faster when she just caved in, no matter how reluctantly.

Cartman cleared his throat, still eyeing her warily and posing his rubber shoe against the doorframe. "He's missing. His family hasn't heard from him since morning. Kahl and Kenny are searching right now, but I think you might have an idea, since he last spoke with you," he explained.

Wendy's frown vanished, to be replaced by rising anxiety. "He didn't talk to me today. Did he say he was going to? Is something wrong? Why haven't you called the police?"

"The person has to have been missing twenty-four hours. There's something big going on, and he was supposed to do something about your mom."

"Wait, wait." Wendy frowned again. "What is going on, and what does my mom have to do with it?"

"I don't know! But if you don't know, I'd best get back to the others." Cartman turned to leave—he had the gall to appear disappointed by her lack of assistance!

"Hold on, you can't just say my mom's involved in 'something big', she's sick! I would know! What's your game, huh? This isn't funny, Cartman!" she cried after his retreating back.

He saluted her without turning back. Wendy felt her blood pressure going to dangerous places, so she slammed the door as loudly as she could before she felt the urge to murder somebody.

She rushed upstairs to her parents' bedroom. Her father and mother remained deep in slumber, thankfully.

Employing all her will to remain calm, Wendy found the nearest available snow coat and set out to aid in the search.

 **~o0O0o~**

As it neared midnight, it became much easier for Kyle to navigate the streets Daredevil-style. He would close his eyes and let the sound of his footsteps guide him along the deserted streets of South Park. He continued to worry for Stan, but rarely was there no distractions to speak of in their small town. The late night delivery trucks were on the business side of town, and here, near the pond, the open, desolate areas were a dark paradise.

The subtle breeze, the chirping crickets, the rippling surface of the water, the crunching twigs underneath his winter boots—

A faint, whistling pop two miles ahead of him.

What?

He dropped to the ground and opened his eyes wide. His vision didn't help; there were no lamps here, and he had neglected to bring a flashlight even if Kenny proudly told him to pack one.

Heck, it would've been dangerous to be seen anyway.

Kyle strained to pick up any other sound from the eerie pop's direction, all the while struggling to keep his mind from going to overdrive. He was afraid, for sure, but this specific unsettling slush that roiled at the pit of his stomach reminded him too much of his encounter with Darius Jensen. Darius had spoken uninterrupted about the lengths to which he would crush Kyle's movement against his company. Kyle couldn't get a word in, or escape, until the man let him leave, and even then a niggling pressure at the back of his skull cemented his fear of the man permanently in his very soul.

For this reason, Kyle remained immobilized, even when the next half hour gave him no further clue to the sound, or why it made the same daunting impression as Darius from miles away.

 **~o0O0o~**

Stan looked up; he was covered in sick like he hadn't been in years. It was a problem that started early, and he wasn't proud of it, causing him to sink into a cycle of shame and drink for months. His father found out eventually—he knew he was bound to be caught one way or another—but Randy didn't give him the hell he expected. He and Sharon tried to force him into rehabilitation, but Stan had already been traumatized by such places. He opted to simply drop the habit, and with Wendy's help, he managed to slow down. Ultimately quitting was still beyond him, but the improvement motivated him to keep going.

That was all down the drain now.

He blinked, tried to shut away the resulting headache from having downed some copious amount of whiskey, and ultimately made his head spin for trying so hard. The mere smell of his vomit almost induced more to come out, so Stan fought his jelly-like legs and crawled off toward the nearest door he found.

Intense light greeted him coldly, as well as blinding white snow howling away as though silencing the sorrows of his own lamenting heart. He recalled where he was: the enclosed eatery at the new garden park, which recently annexed the public basketball courts. It sat farther from the streets than the court, and was more aesthetically improved for the seniors of the town, so that they might have a refreshing getaway from the nursing home. Here, Wendy used to volunteer some free time to help out Stan's and her own aging relatives, and here, Stan had made a proposal to her that he'd one day propose to her for real, when the time was right. Wendy had been shocked, but gracefully slid around any responsibility of accepting or rejecting such a binding proposition by returning an enigmatic kiss on his cheek.

The day after that, she broke up with him.

"Crap, now I need another drink..." Stan said miserably.

He was still trying to pick himself up when he smelled the most fragrant floral scent over the myriad roses in this garden—Wendy's fading day perfume, now diffused by her her personal scent, a light fruity musk that to Stan was more potent and intoxicating than all the alcohols he had ever tasted.

"Stan," called a voice that was very much like Wendy's. He still gave his addled mind the benefit of the doubt. It wasn't beyond him to hallucinate.

"Stan," the Wendy-esque voice repeated.

"Stan." Two gloved hands steadied his lolling head, and made his eyes meet her two striking violet orbs.

"Wendy..." he breathed, feeling lost. "I'm sorry."

"For what, Stan?" She looked him over; other than being drenched in his own bile, he looked fine, if utterly drunk. She released the breath she had been holding. "I thought I'd find you here."

It had been six long months since she abruptly ended their longest steady relationship so far. Six long months since she talked to him, held him this close, had his dazzling, unfocused eyes fixed on hers. She would explain someday, she promised him mentally, but there were other problems to deal with right now. She wiped away the muck on his face with her jacket and lifted his chin to catch his drifting attention. "Your friends were looking for you. You should've at least told Kyle. I'm going to call them and let them know where we are, okay?"

"Wha...hmm?" He tried to respond in a more human fashion, but it was beyond him to make words, torn between bliss and doubt that this was only a dream.

 **~o0O0o~**

Earth was an arid cesspool of backwardness that miraculously housed the most "intelligent" life for millions of lightyears around it. It was a fluke. Nothing more than a mistake. This Haelidon told himself to make the transition from spiritual to physical less infuriating. He had been out on the field before, but every other site he went through was more hospitable, and certainly warmer, than this. Everywhere he turned white snow lazily fell like a plague on this blighted land. This place really ought to be eradicated, to make way for the future. Disgusting Earth should just die.

Moments ticked away and he finally adjusted to his new body. A human male, of hopefully average appearance. Heh, humans were the dullest specimens to evolve a brain, so they probably wouldn't notice, right? Haelidon squinted into the distance. So far he was alone in some barren icy land, and several artificial lights and towering cement structures pierced the infinite darkness of night to keep him company.

"This is it? This is the lowest of the low, the most corrupted patch of humanity in the planet?" he asked himself aloud. "Where are the tortured inhabitants? Where are the seeds of evil that I planted decades ago?"

As if on cue, one silhouette turned the desolate corner and made its way toward him.

Immediately, Haelidon felt a searing pain that stemmed from his head and coursed throughout his body in dizzying waves. "This sensation... My opposite is here."

He waited for the human to come close enough to observe its face, but the creature was utterly obscured by an orange body cover. "Bloody eye sore! It must only be a vessel, since I should be dying because of its Mark from this distance," he mused.

 **~o0O0o~**

Kenny was propelled by the wonder of seeing everything in ultra-high definition. It was better-than-life resolution, and even if it made his head ache when he focused too hard on one spot, the sheer awe of seeing nature down to its core made this inconvenience seem so dull in comparison. The air was cold, and the townsfolk were mostly asleep, which afforded him the liberty of gawking at everyday objects as though they contained rainbows and gold dust. It looked that way too, thanks to a spot of LSD, not that he'd tell the guys that.

Several trucks passed by to make deliveries to the three supermarkets and the many restaurants. Kenny patted himself on the back for sending Kyle out to the quieter rural sections surrounding the business center; as for Cartman, he wasn't sure about where fatass headed, but the guy was never convinced by reason. Kenny rolled his eyes at how stubborn Cartman was being; this was an emergency!

Wringing his frosty hands, he refocused on the task at hand.

He observed City Sushi top to bottom, inside out, with a sweep of his eyes. Lifeless. Then forward one block to City Appliances, a new venture by the City family of companies. This building was far larger than its neighbors, but aside from a few guards, it too didn't contain Stan. It was highly convenient that matter was mostly empty space, and atoms repelled each other more than Cartman and Kyle did. Using his will and his powers of espionage, Kenny continued his assessment of the growing town's establishments with relative ease.

Another truck sped by him.

"Deliveries are supposed to be done now; it's past midnight," he muttered absently. "Meh, at least I'm not alone. Some chicks would be nice to soothe my tired eyes... I wonder if we should call it a night—"

He blinked, he swore he only blinked—but when his eyes reopened to stimulus, thick black tendrils wrapped the buildings as a web might enclose its victims. The trucks were gone, and one by one every street light exploded in a cascade that started from the closest one to him.

Kenny blinked again. A coldness settled itself into the pit of his gut, and his limbs felt limp and rubbery. For the first time since this reincarnation, his vision started to fade. "What the fuck is happening...?"

 **~o0O0o~**

Cartman hurried along the pond's banks; that's where Kyle said he'd look. He had tried to call his phone, but the ceaseless ringing taunted his blood pressure into rising too quickly. Something was wrong. The night felt wrong. The air felt wrong. He could feel something heavy weighing in his chest (which he would never admit to being "concern"). Anger. Definitely anger.

 **~o0O0o~**

Kyle was still face-down on the snow where he had coarsely plopped himself. The sound had returned to normal an hour ago, but he didn't trust his body to not disintegrate with fear the moment he revealed himself to the unknown entity. Fuck Luria, fuck her cursed "gifts", fuck her pointless quests! He wanted out, wanted none of this responsibility of saving the goddamned world! To hell with the world! Satan could have it all if he wanted; Kyle didn't want to face the deep-seated fear that slowly overpowered his mind.

And when his phone rang—his ridiculous ringtone for Cartman, "Roar"—it jolted his nerves past their limits. He fumbled with the touchscreen for an eternity to silence the confounded object. He wished a million deaths on Cartman for calling him ten consecutive times more. His face was caked in frozen tears and lake sludge, but fuck it all! He felt like he would just up and die from this ravenous fear.

It wasn't normal. He wasn't the quitter. He knew it. None of this was natural, but he couldn't get up and ask—beg—for the help he needed...

 **~o0O0o~**

"KAHL!"

The word left his lips before he could stop himself. Cartman stopped in his tracks and tried to calm his breathing, utterly ignoring the pride-crushing realization that seeing the prone form of his favorite person in the world made his heart _ache_.

Eric walked the rest of the distance between him and Kyle and beheld the dangerous pallor of his skin. Snow had encased him in a coffin of icy doom, and what little pulse he observed without touching the precious skin on Kyle's neck didn't seem enough to convey the processes required to keep him alive.

"Shit..." he mumbled. Kyle was hypothermic. "Why did you of all people have to be the sickly one?"

Cartman tried to hoist Kyle out of the snow, but the ice had solidified around his body.

He looked around for a sizable rock that might break the ice. "There!" He hoped direly that Kyle wouldn't wake to see him looking like a murderer.

 _WHAM! CRACK! CRACK!_

 **~o0O0o~**

Kyle awoke to a constant bounce-bounce-bounce pattern, like his mom did when he was running late. But that was seldom, and this was worse. He opened his numb eyes to behold what kind of soft, warm things had enfolded him so delicately, minus the mind-jolting bouncing.

But he was too cold to focus on anything... He blacked out again soon.

 **~o0O0o~**

Cartman looked very flustered as he held Kyle this close to him, and he prayed to Jesus, Buddha, Moses, Hitler, Mel Gibson, and some more powerful people that the redhead wouldn't notice the raucous thumping in his chest. He had a more important task now than the one Luria had assigned him. He had to get Kyle home or to the hospital.

The pond being a short walk from civilization was a good thing, but the distance to Hell's Pass was a quite daunting drive, and a more daunting run—even if he had been eating properly. He was running low on energy, and instead ran on adrenaline which for now was in full supply. The Broflovski residence was much closer, but then "old habits" have made Cartman...somewhat unwelcome.

He sped toward the silent streets until he witnessed a brilliant orange spectacle being engulfed by black smoky tentacles, and suddenly all the street lamps cascaded shut, starting from that point.

 **~o0O0o~**

Haelidon stood behind Kenny nervously, giddily. He could simply take out this unwanted variable; silly fragile humans and their easily accessible, brittle necks. Haelidon felt like if he wanted to, he might torture these unfortunate creatures for days for his entertainment, but a deadline was a deadline. With a soft, crackling grunt, he reached forward and his cold, inhuman arms twisted around Kenny's nape and choked him hard. Kenny wheezed pitifully in distress, his brain locked on two thoughts: "AIR" and "Motherfucker!"

 _Nothing could've saved this poor soul_ , Haelidon thought victoriously. He dropped his struggling victim, watched it sputter and gasp for air, while his black aura drained away into the frigid earth. The smoke melted away to reveal the once-crisp night, now stained by death.

"It was a slave after all. I was right," Haelidon concluded. He sensed the air around him; the horrible after-taste of having touched a divine soul made his entire being tingle unpleasantly. "Don't tell me there are more of you?"

He kicked over Kenny's lifeless body and pried away the sacred hood that protected his dirty blond head. Masked by hair and flesh, engraved into this weakling's soul was a letter that signified its master.

Haelidon was torn between laughter and chagrin. He knew this symbol well. The few times he had been hindered in his tasks was because this same symbol was forged into the destiny of some unsuspecting, lowly drone.

"Luria...this is the last time you interfere with my plans!"

 **~o0O0o~**

A phlegm-like coldness settled in Eric's chest, forbidding air from letting him heed his mind's panicked cries to keep running. He had spotted a car a hundred meters ahead of him, but the black mirage had engulfed everything in sight, and this cold, pure fear—it was eerie, it was heavy, painful—it pulled his mind in different directions, and had it not been for Kyle's presence, he would've succumbed to its deathly influence too.

With a strained huff he forced his legs to move. He willed his eyes not to observe the uncanny darkness that was spreading closer and closer to him. But as soon as it started, the dark waves of malevolence receded. The fear died away slowly like the drifting snow all around.

His phone rang, disrupting the dots that were connecting in his head. The orange blur was Kenny. Indeed, the motionless orange body that lay where it formerly stood appeared to be the one and only Kenny. The black...thing...that caused all of it was apparently the danger that Luria was talking about.

"Cartman! I've got Stan." It was Stan's bitch. "Meet you at my house?"

"Can't," he answered, "Need to get Kyle to the hospital."

He heard Wendy relay this information to Stan. So Stan was alright, and awake too for that matter. Good.

"And tell him Kenny's dead," Eric added quickly. "Hurry up."

Before Wendy could gasp in shock he cut the call. He headed to the abandoned car. He set down Kyle in the backseat and found that the keys were still in the ignition. He didn't want to question his luck before it turned on him, so he buckled up and drove, ready to push his responsibility to Kyle on someone else.

* * *

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Comments/reviews/faves are most appreciated. :D

We're getting to the juicy stuff!

Next Chapter: Kenny's down, but not out!


	4. 3rr0r

A/N: I'm really a sucker for both sci-fi and fantasy. So WHY NOT HAVE BOTH? I'm going for a loose lore that would enable high-tech stuff like the Spiritual Transportation device, multiple realities, and some "magic". Something a _bit_ like "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy", maybe. xD

* * *

 **Awakening**  
 _Cezille07_

Chapter 4 - 3rr0r

Wendy took it as best as she could: with one foot out the door, in case any of them were drunk or high, or some other combination of impossible.

"I understand that strange things _happen_ around you guys," she said, both of her hands on her forehead, as she tried to process the amount of impossible things they just revealed to her.

They had met at Hell's Pass an hour ago. Stan and Wendy walked in together into Kyle's dim room. Kyle was unconscious and wrapped in several heated blankets, and a good pile of hot packs wrapped in clean linens were placed on top of him as well. The only strange thing about the setup was the he also wore Eric's trademark red jacket and yellow gloves. Stan gave Cartman a questioning look, to which he replied hotly, "I HAD TO," before stalking out of the room in a huff.

And Stan had to explain to Wendy what was happening, and why she was involved:

"The spirit of South Park summoned us to perform tasks that would reform the city somehow. Kenny had to get the library back up, apparently to reduce the level of stupid in this town. Kyle was to deal with a Darius guy who owned the Jensen Enterprise, and Cartman had to find a way to stop the faction wars..."

"I understand that strange things happen around you guys," Wendy said, perplexed, "but what I don't get is why my mom has to do with any of this. Okay? She just got cancer," she paused. She stood up from the seat next to Stan and ambled toward the window; she didn't want him to see her face like this. "We've tried chemotherapy, but she hasn't been responding. The oncologist says she's two months left, at most. This isn't fair, and I shouldn't be blaming anyone, but..."

Stan looked from the sleeping Kyle to this distressing maiden whose tears made him want to change the world. "Wendy, come here." He hadn't touched her in so long, but he had to be strong for her. "We'll figure something out. The fact that we've been given this assignment means that it can be done, right? The spirit of South Park can't be stupid, right?"

"This isn't helping," snapped Wendy, but at the same time, she chuckled a little. She knew she had to stay strong as well, and a small trickle of hope wasn't a bad thing to have, as long as Stan said so. She went into his embrace and cried.

 **~o0O0o~**

Kenny was quite used to the paperwork required to get into Hell. The lines were impossible; people from all colors and religions seemed to flock here at a death rate he still couldn't believe was possible.

"Oh, Mr. McCormick, you're back again," said the receptionist, Aziskarae. This demon had dull red skin, dried up wing stalks, and empty eye sockets, which he loved using to intimidate newbies. But he was also perpetually stuck in the welcome booth, and his old-man voice did nothing to improve his image. The poor man was pathetic. "Sign here, and there, and on this form too. Enjoy your stay, bastard."

Kenny ignored him and proceeded to the lava lakes where Satan usually stayed. Most people here were nameless; unbaptized infants, small-time murderers, and many conceited fucks who felt like celebrities for having raped a few people.

It was all just pathetic. Eternal damnation with these idiots would really be a bad way to spend the afterlife.

"Oh, Kenny!" called Satan from his throne of evil. "Over here!"

Kenny rolled his eyes and followed the booming voice of the prince of darkness. Among the partying ladies and gentlemen was where Satan most often hung out. He had a nice villa overlooking the fiery rivers of lava where some truly evil geniuses burned for their crimes. Kenny wondered a lot if Cartman was going to bathe in the fire with the likes of Osama Bin Laden, Hitler, and Joseph Kony. Hopefully not, but there was a feeling sometimes.

"What's up, Satan," Kenny said as he approached the towering demon.

"Not much. I hope you stay longer this time, because we're going to send up a giant rock sculpture we found under the Styx. See that, over there?"

Kenny followed Satan's sharp black claw to where a massive rock that looked like a UFO sat on a wide pedestal.

"It's gonna give the humans a lot to debate about. Religion, aliens, the foundations of science! It's gonna be fun! You can watch the chaos from here on the public Earth News channel," continued the devil.

"That sounds good," agreed Kenny, although deep inside he didn't think his own neighbors would have fun; at least one person was probably going to die for his or her beliefs, and hopefully, it wouldn't be him. "My visits don't usually last long, but I'll try to catch it if I can. I'll probably see the effects on earth anyway."

"Well, okay."

Satan then went to entertain some other guests.

Kenny picked up a cocktail from a nearby table and found a chair to crash on. Hell really wasn't too bad if he didn't think about the people around him. Actually, Hell was much better, because it didn't seem to contain the _thing_ that killed him.

He recalled the fear that took up the space his lungs used to take, and breath deserted him like frightened children. That would be his scariest death by far...

And who better to discuss it with than Luria herself, who was angrily pushing aside people and making her way toward him!

"I didn't expect one of my Chosen to just up and DIE so quickly!" she bellowed, her arms gesturing madly as she spoke. "None of you did what little I asked! Is it so hard to simply work together? I picked the four people who looked like a nice clique but all I've seen is fighting between the skinny pale boy and the fat bozo!"

"Nice to see you too, sheesh!" Kenny mumbled, looking away bitterly. "I fucked up, okay? And Kyle and Cartman have just always been like that. It's not like we wanted to fail. I didn't want to get killed by some black...spirit..."

"Black spirit?" Luria thought it over. "You're saying a black spirit killed you? I...I KNEW IT! It was fucking Haelidon all along!"

"What are you talking about? Who or what is Haelidon?" yelled Kenny.

"I told you that your planet is facing a make-or-break change, didn't I? Well this is it! This was the danger I was telling you about!"

"God DAMN IT, just explain everything before you go cryptic on me again!"

Luria crossed her arms. Several people were now watching them squabble. "Fine. Get me a cocktail and follow me outside," she instructed.

Kenny shrugged at the onlookers, and they dispersed. Satan made his way back. "Is there a problem? That was South Park's spirit guardian, right?"

"The one and only," sighed Kenny. "Please tell me she was spouting nonsense."

"Luria? She's the most stubborn, hot-headed spirit guardian you'll find in all the earth. She's the craziest one out there, but she has a reputation for coming through," Satan shook his head. "But that's not my domain. Her responsibility and mine are completely different, so we don't clash. We're not supposed to. I take care of the souls of unrepentant sinners, and I leave the spiritual dimension alone. I don't want trouble, okay?"

"Sure," Kenny answered. He picked up a second glass of alcohol and made to follow Luria when he remembered one other thing. "Wait, Satan."

"Yeah?"

"I know you just said you don't deal with other guardian's affairs, but if you know any way to remove a human sickness..."

"Is there someone dying up there?"

"Someone important. It's part of Luria's job to help that person, but that person is dying of an incurable disease. Luria couldn't do it, and us humans have no way of saving her."

"Sorry, kid, I don't dabble in that kind of shit."

Kenny thought hard. "But I'm...immortal and...maybe we can work something out."

Satan sighed. "Aww, now look. I like bargains and all, specially if it screws someone over, but again, this isn't my battle. You got that immortality elsewhere, it could be problematic for me..."

"All I'm saying is that I don't need to live forever." Kenny shuddered. "And maybe you'd like a better welcome guy than Aziskarae after my next death?"

"You're saying...you would give up your immortality and serve as my employee as your eternal damnation?"

They stared at each other for a long while. Luria came back around to claim her drink and berate Kenny some more, but their conversation was too intense to break up. She had a sense that choosing Kenny as one of her Chosen was a big deal somehow; she didn't know he had connections in Hell, with the Big Man no less.

"I agree," Kenny said at length. "I agree to be your receptionist and sort out any possible consequences for turning over my curse to you."

Satan produced a burning quill and some glowing parchment. "Let it be known that Kenneth McCormick, of human birth, has relinquished his _gift_ of immortality to me, Satan, lord of Hell, to be used as I see fit according to the laws of Hell. He will take over Aziskarae's position as my agent after his next and final death, and receive all punishment if any may arise from this non-standard procedure. Witnessed this day by spirit guardian Luria and my entourage."

Satan handed the quill and the contract to Kenny.

Kenny used the quill to pierce the skin on his wrist, and with the dripping blood, he signed the agreement solemnly. He left the open-mouthed party with a mixture of freedom from the unknowability of his curse, which everyone else called a gift, and a new burden: the fear that this was his very last shot at life. All in all, he felt what he normally felt: pretty fucked up.

 **~o0O0o~**

"Let me just say this, Kenny," Luria said as calmly as she could. Kenny was sitting next to the river of fire, watching the deplorable dead souls wailing in ululation. He seemed like he was receding into his orange parka.

Luria sipped her cocktail to steel her nerves. "I may have some judgment issues when it comes to some things, but you're a good person. Signing a pact with the Devil himself isn't something anyone, human or not, would just do willy-nilly. I think it's brave."

Kenny didn't look at her. "It's for Wendy's mom. I've thought about it. I'm the only one who could do it. Trust me. Trust _us._ "

"Fine. You've done your friend's mission. Maybe they'll take the example and help each other out."

"You still have yet to explain the whole thing to us. Who is this Haelidon? What does he want?"

Luria exhaled slowly. She finished her drink and pulled back her arm; she chucked the empty glass into the river of fire. She and Kenny watched it make mini-explosions as it collided with infinitely hot lava. Finally, she answered, "We'd have to call your friends into the spirit realm, because this is a story too complex to be told in human time."

 **~o0O0o~**

Kyle was expecting to wake up in Jew Heaven. Or at home. Or somewhere cold, to continue his corporeal torture... But none of those things matched the sight that met his tired eyes as they opened once again. This was really, horribly familiar:

Stan, to his left, was still also just waking up, rubbing his sore back after what seemed like an endless fall through space-time. Stan looked better-equipped this time to handle the fact that they had been summoned again to Luria's strange dimension, wherever that dimension was. He then gripped his head. Sadly, the effects of his hangover were still present in the spirit world. Maybe, he was beginning to conclude, the effects of his drinking transcended his physical body's limits, and permeated into his soul as a coping mechanism. He had been lectured on addiction time and time again...

Cartman had plopped in front of him, too close for comfort. The fatass was still snoring. Kyle had to remember; were they asleep when Luria had summoned them last? Then was he still asleep right now? Was this a dream, was this more than a dream? What exactly were Luria's powers? Anyhow, he kicked Cartman on the side of his belly, and Cartman responded by groggily getting up, flipping him off, and scowling when he saw where they were.

The vast rolling fields of gold wheat.

Most spectacularly, Kenny, to his right, was sipping a cup of tea calmly as he leafed through a colorful magazine, whose front-page picture was a bare-bosom lady with skin as clear as Luria's. He sat on the soft earth, as if all this was normal.

"Hey guys," Kenny said as he noted that they were all as lucid as can be. "Looks like the Spiritual Transportation device worked well enough not to give Kyle some weird sickness this time."

"KENNY!" cried Cartman. He scrambled to his feet and barreled into Kenny as he went to inspect his friend. "I saw you get killed! What the fuck?!"

"I'm fine, Cartman," Kenny rolled his eyes. He dusted himself and sat upright, pushing Cartman off him. His teacup was now shattered on the ground.

"He what?!" shrieked Kyle. "He's...dead? You saw him die? What happened?"

"No idea," Kenny answered nonchalantly.

"The street lights suddenly burst, and some entity attacked him from behind. Creepiest shit I've ever seen." Cartman assessed that Kenny was fine, for some reason, and calmed down.

"Then what?" pressed Kyle.

"Then nothing! I ran for my fucking life!" Eric answered crossly.

"Cartman, I have a big problem with the apparent fact that you didn't do anything about Kenny's attacker after you watched him get murdered," snarled Kyle.

"I had more important things to worry about that a person who's already fucking DEAD, Kahl!"

"Thanks, Cartman," butted in Kenny.

Kyle went on, "Like what, I wonder?! Yourself? He's our friend—"

"GUYS, please. Can we pick this up some other time?" Stan cut in. "Kyle, Cartman doesn't get it, but we do. Just forget it now."

"Thank you, Stan," huffed Cartman.

Kenny simply rolled his eyes and waited for their host to enter the scene. As always, none of their mortal minds could grasp the fact of his immortality. The countless times he had died for them, in front of them, would be erased the same way sand castles were washed out by the ocean. He had learned long ago to just keep it to himself. He had stopped fearing death when he knew he was stronger than the Grim Reaper himself.

"Gentlemen," said an ethereal, female voice.

"Luria," Kyle answered absently.

Luria faded into existence in the middle of their circle. This time, her robe of diamonds was stained blood red, to her visible dismay. "Oh, boys. I hope this is the last time we ever have to use that unreliable piece of crap that can't even assemble my clothes right. Fucking technicians; I already told them to fix that shitty device—"

Kenny cleared his throat loudly.

"Oh, sorry," she said feebly. "Our agenda for today involves discussing information about the enemy. With Kenny's insightful descriptions of his killer, I have found out who exactly our adversary is."

"She's talking about this so casually," commented Kyle, who was still uncomfortable dealing with Kenny's latest tragedy.

Luria waved her arm gracefully, erasing the background of fields with the motion. What remained was a square room that held five chairs situated around a pentagonal table, in the middle of which was a three-dimensional, holographic map of the Earth and its neighboring dimensions. They picked their chairs and observed the map.

"This is your planet," she indicated the blue-green ball of rock that indeed modeled Earth. "I'm gonna zoom out a little so you can see the planes of existence that you co-inhabit." She did so with a flick of her wrist. The Earth shrank, but more shapes appeared in the hologram. "You're aware that Heaven and Hell are real, hopefully? They're only some thousand miles above the North and South Poles of your egocentric planet. Humans are popular in the multiverse for establishing their realities based on what's convenient for them. Therefore, no other planet hosting life has access to an afterlife."

The boys held their breath, afraid and ashamed for their species.

"But anyway," Luria grinned to herself, "a few lightyears over here..." she panned through the map quickly, "we have the establishment that is analogous to your United Nations. It's a sort of universal office that coordinates each of the dimensions." The hologram now showed an enormous glass-like prism holding a multitude of colorful boxes floating inside it. "Each of these represents a member of the union. There are many species of life everywhere, but the humans have been separated into their own dimension to avoid conflict with everyone else. However, the Visitor race has always liked messing with the Human area of responsibility. They get a good amount of shit for it, I tell you, but they're the ones with most advanced information about human progress. Which isn't much."

Now everyone but Cartman was snickering.

"And here is us." She zoomed into one of the boxes in the prism. "At the Earth-Spirit embassy."

"Is that..." Stan pointed at another little box; now at the level of zoom they could see some details, "Is that a doorway to Imaginationland?"

Luria nodded. "Oh, yes. It was once a small, shriveled up little world, but as humans evolved better brains and creativity, Imaginationland flourished and became a recognized member of the union. It's the only man-made realm with intelligent life. Some life there are more intelligent that men, actually."

"That can't be. If humans created it, it should be subordinate to us. A creation can't surpass the intelligence of its creator," argued Kyle.

"That's a philosophical discussion for another day, ginger," Cartman stopped him.

"Agreed," Luria added.

"Wait, I know that place. The Earth-Hell entrance. The guy there is a boring dude." Kenny pointed at the reddish portal, where a familiar brimstone booth stood.

"Yeah. Very popular destination. I must say, their leader's taste in aesthetics surely lacks a feminine touch," remarked Luria. "Seriously. Kenny can confirm this. But we have more important business to discuss, so let's please not get sidetracked again by irrelevant details."

 **~o0O0o~**

There had been news about the inter-dimensional highway being built dating back to a few human decades. Luria herself had agreed that such a highway would be useful. The head architect promised it would be physics-proof: it would follow the rules at its current endpoint, but still sustain lightyear speed where available. It would be the shortcut to end all shortcuts; the traffic at the inter-dimensional embassies would lessen greatly and foster inter-species trade of goods, information, and tourism. All in all a good move for the universe.

What they didn't anticipate was the Sun's unfavorable placement right between two alien realms. It would be costly to go around the star's gravitational path to allow the Earth to survive. The humans were a generally unimportant race, and some leaders voted in favor of the eradication of the hapless planet. To make matters worse, the Earth's ambassador was a dolphin.

"I gathered signatures from spirit guardians around the world, but there was no luck convincing the chairperson to see reason," Luria continued glumly. "Petitions can only go so far. I talked to the spirit guardians and they all said we have to elevate the human race so that the leaders might consider your net worth, ignoring the warmongers, ignoring the conceited world leaders, ignoring the one percent who make the human race look bad."

"I think I understand now," Stan said. "The tasks we were given were tasks that would stop those who are taking advantage of each other. Kenny's library restoration!"

"To remove ignorance," Kyle finished.

"Good, yes!" exclaimed Luria. "Those groups you must deal with are tainted with the seeds of evil. Their souls have been marked the same way I have Marked you. I should've realized this sooner; I've always had faith that our little redneck mountain town isn't the nest of the worst of mankind! Our enemy has the power to sway people into doing his bidding, without them realizing it. Undeniably, Haelidon, the chief engineer of the highway project, is behind all of this, and he will stop at nothing to complete it."

Kyle thought about this. The Mark was the likely cause for his harsh reaction toward Jensen. And the same feeling he got in the edge of the forest was the same...only more debilitating by tenfold. "Then it was Haelidon who killed Kenny? He caused the stupid faction wars, and he made Jensen Enterprise exploit the Earth's resources?"

"And he wanted to get rid of Wendy's mom," Stan added. "Why?"

"Their goals of abusing the planet and its citizens align with Haelidon's plans to ruin the human image to the embassies," Luria concluded. She shut off the hologram with another wave of her transparent hands. Standing up, she turned away from them and added timidly, "You boys are gonna have to be careful from now on. I, um...I made you sort of easy to track..."

"WHAT? How?" cried Cartman.

"The Mark in your souls, when I gave you your powers? They sort of...give a reaction to other spirits. It's the same response you'd get if you stood close to anyone with Haelidon's Mark... Really sorry guys," Luria finished with a nervous gulp.

Stan smacked his face with his palm. "So basically, we're walking targets for this Haelidon?"

Luria sighed in defeat. "...Basically."

"We're screwed," Eric whined.

"That's probably how he identified Kenny," Kyle thought aloud.

"Probably," Kenny gruffly answered.

"I'm SORRY, okay? I didn't think he'd personally visit our town and freakin' murder your friend! I thought it was COOL to bear the Mark of an immortal!" Luria tried to save her falling ego.

"The process fucking _hurt_ ," remarked Kyle.

 _Zzzzzzt!_

"I don't want these powers! How do they even help us?" Stan yelled back. "It's been a full day of headaches for me."

"And I haven't eaten anything!" Cartman scowled. "I'm very likely to butcher someone and eat their balls if this doesn't stop!"

"If I had given you the elemental shit, it would've been more destructive, don'tcha think?" snapped Luria.

"I just want them gone!" Stan groaned. "You can remove them, right?"

"Yes, but your friends aren't complaining!" Luria shouted.

 _Zzzzzzzzzzzt!_

"My eyes are ultra-cool though," Kenny piped in.

"I've had enough! Stop fighting!" Kyle finally stood up. He cornered Luria, saying, "We'll save the Earth, one way or another, even with this handicap. Luria, you can't just hide behind cool things! Tell us straight if there's news. We need you as much as you need us."

"I got it, I got it," she replied petulantly. "I—"

 _Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt!_

 **~o0O0o~**

Kenny gasped awake. He was in a small hospital room, sprawled ungracefully on the floor. Stan and Wendy were asleep, huddling under a shared blanket on two adjacent chairs near the window. Kyle was on the hospital bed, covered in many layers of warm blankets, and he had an oxygen mask. Cartman was nowhere to be seen.

What happened since he died?

And why was he here with them, in the dark hours of early morning?

They were just in a meeting with Luria, which abruptly ended. "Oh, the damned transportation device," he smiled.

He felt renewed, alive, oddly strong. He absently touched his neck; Haelidon's evil touch still made his skin tingle there, but everything else—all his other scars, the last dregs of LSD—was gone.

"Mm." Someone groaned; Kenny found that Kyle was starting to wake up. Kenny waited to see if the redhead would react to his presence. They usually didn't. This time though, he felt it might hardly matter since it would be his last run anyway.

Kyle finally focused his vision on Kenny. "You're...alive?!"

* * *

A/N: One quest out of four!

Next Chapter: Cartman's turn to tackle a quest!


End file.
